


Introduction to Advanced Basic Genealogy

by Feeshies



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Related, Family Drama, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24885619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeshies/pseuds/Feeshies
Summary: When Abed's cousin, Abra, visits for Family Day, Troy is expected to help keep her entertained.Takes place before Season 1 Episode 18, Advanced Genealogy.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1: My Lunch With Abra

“And you’re sure there’s no way to get out of it?”

Troy cringed when he heard the accusatory tone slip through his voice, but he couldn’t help it. With Greendale’s Family Day being tomorrow, he couldn’t help but be on edge. He could have handled a visit from his father, his mother, or even his father's new girlfriend. But no, he was doomed to an entire day of keeping Nana Barnes company with no emotional buffer. All he wanted was one day where he could hang out with Abed and relax so he could be mentally prepared. But apparently, that wasn’t going to happen.

“My dad’s taking tomorrow off for Family Day, so he needs me to help with the prep work in the kitchen.” Abed responded nonchalantly as he pushed open the door to his father’s Palestinian restaurant.

An automatic bell sound rang through the restaurant as the door opened. It was still mid-morning, so the place was pretty much empty. The only person Troy could see was a girl sitting in a booth near the door. She was covered head to toe in black cloth (a burqa, Troy believed that was called), with only her eyes showing through the gap in the head piece. When he and Abed walked in, she immediately sat up straight and looked over at them.

“Abed!” She waved before pushing the plastic menu and scraps of paper straw wrappers out of the way. _“As-salamu alaykum!”_

Abed nodded his head in her direction.

 _“Wa alaykum as-salam.”_ He turned back to Troy. “This is my cousin, Abra. She’s visiting from Gaza.”

“She came all the way here just for Family Day?” Troy asked as he slid into the booth across from her.

 _“Ismuhu Troy,”_ Abed said to her, which Troy assumed was an introduction.

“Nice to meet you.” Troy leaned against the table and extended his hand out to her.

Abra stared at him. Over her shoulder, Abed slowly shook his head. So Troy, quite smoothly, withdrew his hand and pretended to fix his hair. Meanwhile, Abed and Abra began conversing in rapid-fire Arabic that Troy couldn’t begin to keep up with, until he could hear Abed’s father calling from the kitchen.

“Oh,” Abed looked back towards the kitchen. “I have to get to work.”

“Wait!” Troy called, but it was too late. Abed disappeared, leaving him alone with Abra.

It didn’t take long for the awkward atmosphere to surface. What was he supposed to do? Sit there in silence until Abed’s shift was done? Get up and leave? Call one of his other friends from the study group and hope they could alleviate some of the tension?

If Abra was uncomfortable, she didn’t seem to be showing it. She maneuvered her styrofoam cup under the cloth covering her face and slurped loudly through the straw, never breaking her direct eye contact with him.

Troy patted his hands against the table rhythmically, trying to avoid her intense stare. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle silence, but this was his best friend’s cousin. The longer he went without communicating with her, the worse he felt. 

Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled open his web browser. Thank god Mr. Nadir’s restaurant had free wifi. After tapping in the keywords “common Arabic phrases”, he kept scrolling until he found a webpage that included the phonetic pronunciation.

“Uh,” Troy cleared his throat. “ _Salam_ , um, _kaifa haloka?”_

Even though he couldn’t see most of her face, Troy could tell from her eyes that she was smiling.

_“Haloki.”_

Oh right, talking was a two-way street.

 _“Haloki, haloki…”_ Troy muttered to himself as he scrolled faster. “What’s the response for that?”

“I was correcting you. Because I am a woman you would say _‘kaifa haloki’_ , not _‘kaifa haloka’_.”

The phone slipped from Troy’s hands and clattered onto the table, eliciting a laugh from Abra.

“You can speak English?”

“Yes. I’ve been learning it in school for a long time.”

“Okay.” Troy closed out of the web browser. “I guess I’ll just stick with English then. Your English is so much better than my Arabic.”

“Your Arabic was not bad. You just... _yaʿni_ …” her eyes darted across the room as she searched for the word. “Made...a common mistake. But you were not bad. And you were speaking Modern Standard Arabic. Perhaps you would be better with the Palestinian Arabic.”

Troy frowned,

“You’re just pitying me, aren’t you.”

“Yeah…” Abra let the word hang in the air as she played with her straw. “And I am fine.”

“Huh?”

“Your question,” she looked back at him. “ _‘Kaifa haloki?’ ‘Ana bekhair.’_.”

“Oh,” Troy rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m glad you’re, uh, _bekhair_ \- I’m probably not using that right, sorry.”

Troy swore he heard Abra giggle behind her face-cover. 

She placed her elbows against the table and rested her chin on top of her gloved hands.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Troy. Abed talks a lot about you.”

“Really?” Troy couldn’t suppress the smile on his face. “Just the good things, right?”

“No. They are mostly boring.” Abra took another sip of her drink. “He once called to tell me about the time he…” she looked at him strangely. “...Put a lot of pencils in your mouth?”

“36,” Troy clarified proudly. “Personal record.”

“It was 2 in the morning when he called.”

“Oh,” Troy’s smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

Abra shook her head.

“No, it just means he likes you a lot. I think this is good.”

“Okay,” he smiled down at the table. “Thank you.”

“Just tell him to remember the nine hour time difference for when he calls.”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that. Sorry again, by the way.” Troy leaned back against the plastic surface of the booth. “So did you really come all the way here just for Family Day?”

“Yes.” Abra tilted her head to the side questioningly. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that, I don’t think most people would fly across the world for some event at their cousin’s community college.” Troy explained. “I just thought there would be another reason.”

“No, no more reasons.” Abra’s eyes smiled. “I have not seen Abed in a long time and I missed him. And I will be starting university next year and I wanted to see what Abed’s school looks like.”

“Wait, are you thinking about transferring to Greendale?”

Even though Troy knew it was unlikely and he was used to people looking down on his school, Abra’s prolonged laughter stung more than it should have.

When she finally got a hold of herself, Abra sighed, shaking her head.

“Oh no, I’m staying at home. But Abed does talk about the school a lot too and I wanted to see it.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Troy laughed. “Before today, I didn’t even know Abed had a cousin.”

Troy didn’t realize how his remark sounded until he met Abra’s eyes. If he could see her entire face, he imagined Abra could have given Annie’s “Disney Face” a run for its money.

“He never talks about me?” Her voice was soft and shaking when she got to the last syllable.

“It’s not that! He must have, I don’t know.” Troy instantly tried to back pedal. “We just don’t talk about family stuff that much.”

“But we’re Abed and Abra. Like…” she did a little dance in her booth while speaking in a sing-songy voice. _“Abed wa Abra!”_

“Aw nice, you guys got a song too?” Troy hoped that her little jingle and impressively-timed jazz hands were a sign that the conversation would go back to a more pleasant tone. “That reminds me of the ‘Troy and Abed in the Morning’ thing Abed and I do.”

Abra’s jazz hands came to an abrupt stop.

“I know about ‘Troy and Abed in the Morning’.”

“Oh, right.” So much for a more pleasant tone.

For the first time since Troy learned Abra could speak English, they fell into a prolonged silence. Was she really such an important part of Abed’s life? If so, he didn’t blame her for feeling upset. Troy imagined he would have felt the same way if Abed never told her about him. Still, was there any way he could salvage the conversation?

“So…” Troy spoke, then realized he didn’t have anything to say.

Abra looked up at him blankly.

“Uh,” he looked around the room for something that could serve as a conversation starter. “I, uh, I like your burqa.”

Abra stared at him. It was hard to tell if she was still upset or slightly amused.

“Your burqa.” Troy waved his hand in front of his face. “It looks really cool.”

“It’s a niqāb.” Abed suddenly appeared next to their table, with an apron tied around his waist and a plastic tray of food balanced on his hand. Troy would have liked to say that he didn’t yelp when Abed manifested out of nowhere, but sadly that wouldn’t be true. 

Abed set down the tray and began distributing the red plastic serving baskets around the table. Golden brown falafel, perfectly-puffed fatayer, freshly-made tabbouleh, smaller styrofoam bowls containing hummus and baba ghanoush, and a stack of warm pita. Troy had little exposure to Middle Eastern food before meeting Abed. It was certainly one of the many perks of the friendship.

“Dad thought you might be hungry.” Abed fanned some plates napkins out then tucked the tray under his arm. “Hope it’s cool.”

“Of course it’s cool, I’m not going to turn down free food.” He paused. “It’s free, right?”

Abed nodded.

Troy’s instinct was to start piling up his plate, but he decided to wait for Abra. Somewhere he could feel his mother nodding approvingly at his etiquette.

Instead of serving herself, Abra chatted with Abed in Arabic. The conversation seemed to start out pleasant enough, but even with the language barrier Troy could detect the change in tone. Abra’s voice slowly began to sound more heated while Abed’s responses shortened to only a couple monotone words. Troy suspected that Abra was demanding to know why he never told him about her, only because he would occasionally hear his name pop up amidst a sea of unfamiliar phrases.

But then, something shifted. After Abed gave another short response, Abra’s eyes widened. She shrank back, bowing her head down towards the table.

 _“Ha’ek ‘alay.”_ she whispered.

Troy didn’t know what that meant, but he guessed it was an apology of some sort.

Abed just shrugged, his demeanor barely changing.

“Hey Troy.”

“Oh, hey.” It was hard to sound casual when he knew something more was going on. “How’s the shift?”

“It’s okay, mostly prep-work. Might try to convince my dad to let me go early. Would you still want to hang out?”

“Of course,” Troy beamed. “By the way, Abra’s really cool.”

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Abra break her gaze from the table to look up at him.

“Yep, she is.” Abed looked back at the kitchen. “I should go back to work.”

Troy waited until Abed left before he spoke to Abra, but he still made a point to keep his voice lowered.

“Hey, is there something wrong?”

Abra suddenly became very interested in staring down at the table again.

“I…” she shook her head. “I shouldn’t tell you. You said you and him don’t talk about family.”

“Oh.” Troy felt his body go cold. “But he’s okay, right?”

Abra was quiet for longer than Troy was comfortable with.

“Yes.” She eventually nodded. “Abed is okay.”

Troy decided it would be best if he accepted that answer at face value for now and he began piling food onto his plate. Abra stopped to whisper a short prayer in Arabic before serving herself.

Once again they sat in silence, but a more peaceful silence since they were more focused on eating their food.

“So,” Troy broke the silence as he spooned more hummus onto his plate. “What are you going to study in coll--I mean--university?”

Abra pushed her plate out from behind the front of her niqāb, where she had formed a sort of tent over her food.

“I’m going to university to study fashion design.”

“Really?” Troy asked. “You can make clothes? That’s cool.”

Abra’s eyes lit up.

“I can make clothes, but I like coming up with ideas more. I brought some of my drawings with me. Maybe later I can show you.”

“Yeah,” Troy nodded. “That sounds awesome.”

“What do you study?”

Troy sucked in air through his teeth.

“I don’t really know, sort of just exploring my options. I did have an athletic scholarship for football, but then I got hurt, so now I’m at Greendale.”

 _“Mit’asfe,_ I’m sorry,” Abra’s voice softened and she held her hand to her chest. “How did you get hurt? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine now, but I dislocated my shoulders while attempting a keg flip,” Troy shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Well, I didn’t attempt it. I nailed it, except for the landing. But other than that: perfection.”

Abra stared at him.

“Oh,” Troy pushed his plate to the side before explaining further. “A keg flip is like a keg stand, only it’s much harder and requires the perfect level of finesse and skill to pull off.”

Abra kept staring at him.

“Basically it’s a keg stand, but you do a flip at the end.”

“I understand ‘flip’. I don’t understand ‘keg flip’ or ‘keg stand’,” she paused. “Or ‘keg’.”

And here Troy was worried that he and Abra wouldn’t have anything to talk about.

“So basically a keg is like a big thing of beer, and a keg stand is when your friends hold you upside down as you drink as much beer from the keg as you can.” he crossed his arms, satisfied with his explanation. “Not many can pull it off.”

Abra’s eyes were wide.

“Was Abed one of the friends who did that with you?”

Troy laughed, but stopped when he noticed that Abra was actually concerned.

“Oh no, this was before I met Abed. He doesn’t even drink that much.”

“Abed drinks?!”

“No, Abed doesn’t drink. He will only have a drink when it’s for a character.”

Abra didn’t look reassured.

“Anyway, uh,” Troy drummed his fingers against the table. “Do you want to show me your designs?”

That seemed to lift Abra’s spirits up slightly. She reached into a messenger bag which was set beside her in the booth. After a few seconds of rummaging, she pulled out a large, spiral-bound sketch book, the pages discolored and wavy from heavy use. She placed the book on the table and looked up at him expectantly.

Abra’s eyes smiled and pushed the book towards him. Troy opened the sketchbook as carefully as he could, the pages were stiff from the use of watercolor. He was worried that they would crack under his touch. The book itself was full of fashion illustrations of women wearing niqābs like Abra’s, but much more elaborate and colorful. The drawings themselves were done in flowing black ink, but the color was added expertly with watercolor pigments. With his only exposure to the niqāb being Abra’s plain black one, he didn’t consider all of the potential colors and styles they could be done with.

As he admired the drawings, he could feel Abra staring at him, the same way Abed would observe him when he would show him one of his films.

“Wow, these are really good,” Troy stopped turning the pages to look closer at a peach-colored niqāb, the delicate shape of the paintbrush visible in the details of the floral print.

“Thank you,” she bowed her head. “Do you know fashion?”

“I never studied it, but I like to think I have good taste.”

“You made new ones.”

Once again, Abed just appeared at the table with little warning, looking at the sketchbook over Troy’s shoulder and causing him to jolt in his seat.

“You can’t keep doing that!”

As Abed gathered up the empty plates and serving baskets, Abra took the book from Troy so she could show him her illustrations as well. But Troy couldn’t help but notice that she kept glancing at him through the corner of her eye. 

At once point, she gestured for Abed to lean down so she could whisper something in Arabic into his ear, hiding the side of her face with her hand. Troy had no idea why, since he wouldn’t have been able to understand what she was saying and also her mouth was always covered anyway.

Abed’s eyebrows furrowed, but he seemed as stoic and aloof as usual. Meanwhile, Abra’s poise was slowly seeping away as she gestured more with her hands, talking faster, and her voice raised an octave. Troy wondered if Abra’s frenzy had anything to do with the last conversation she and Abed had. Or maybe she was confronting Abed for drinking. Either way, Troy was both thankful and frustrated that he couldn’t speak fluent Arabic.

 _“Ba’refsh.”_ Abed pulled back from the conversation to think for a moment. “Hey, Troy?”

“Abed!” Abra squealed in panic.

“Abra said she thinks you’re really cute.”

Troy felt like the world just slammed on the brakes. 

“Uh…thank you? That’s, uh, very flattering.”

Abed looked back at Abra, who was turtling herself deeper into her niqāb until she was just an unidentifiable mass of black cloth. A series of muffled screams and shouting in Arabic could be heard from beneath the layers of fabric. Abed leaned in closer to where her head was.

“Oh,” he looked back at Troy. “To clarify, she wasn’t suggesting anything, but she likes your smile.”

More muffled shouting.

“I wasn’t supposed to translate that last part.”

“I guess both me and Abra have good taste,” Troy laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “Is she going to be okay?”

Abed looked down at the quaking mass of black fabric that was Abra. 

_“Keh’fik?”_

For a moment, Abra emerged from her cocoon, just so she could glare at Abed through the slit in her niqāb.

“How much longer is your shift?” Troy asked, hoping to sway the conversation topic.

“After I clear this table, I’m done.” Abed balanced the tray with empty plates and serving baskets on his hand. “Dad’s letting me go early.”

“Really?” Troy raised his eyebrows. He never actually met Gobi Nadir in person, but this seemed like unusual behavior for him.

“Yeah, I told him that we had plans and that seemed to change his mind. I think he’s just happy that I have a friend for once.” Abed shrugged. “But I don’t actually have any plans, so we’ll have to think of something.”

“I’m sure we will.” Troy tried to play it cool and not to sound too relieved.

“I just need to take care of these.” Abed gestured with the tray in his hands then disappeared into the kitchen.

Abra remained hiding in her niqāb, practically huddled in the fetal position in the booth.

“Hey?” Troy gently patted the table in front of her to get her attention. “It’s okay.”

Abra pulled her face piece back down to the bridge of her nose, so it was no longer covering her eyes.

“He…” she cleared her throat. “There was a mistake. In his translation.”

“Okay, cool.” Troy played with the sleeves of his sweater. “If you want, we can just forget this whole thing ever happened.”

Abra seemed to consider his words for a moment, then nodded.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Sweet.” He smiled. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to girls having crushes on him. It could be both a blessing and a curse at times, but by that point Troy knew how to handle these situations.

Instead of talking, Abra turned to flipping through her own sketchbook and closely examining each illustration, like an art appraiser inspecting every detail of a masterwork painting.

Only a few minutes later, Abed returned with his apron off and his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” Troy stood up then looked back at Abra. “How do I say goodbye in Arabic?”

“You could just say _‘yalla bye’_.”

“Okay, cool.” Troy felt relieved knowing he wouldn’t have to stumble his way through a more complicated and longer Arabic phrase. He gave a little wave. _“Yalla bye.”_

She smiled and waved back at him.

 _“Ila al-liqaa!_ And no keg flips!”

“Already learned that lesson,” he sighed and turned back to Abed.

Abed nodded his head towards Abra. _“Ma’a salama.”_

The door to the kitchen opened and Abed’s father stepped out.

“Bye, dad.” Abed waved and prepared to leave. “I’ll see you at Family Day.”

“Thanks for the food, Mr. Nadir.” Troy trailed after Abed. He realized that this was his first time meeting his best friend’s dad. Even though he knew he should at least try to get to know him more, he had no idea what Abed expected from their interaction. Maybe they did need to talk about family stuff more.

“Keep Abed out of trouble,” Mr. Nadir responded. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Abra put down her sketchbook and asked her uncle a question in Arabic. When he shook his head and began walking back into the kitchen, Abra began pushing back harder. It didn’t take long for a mild argument to erupt between the two.

“What’s she saying?” Troy whispered to Abed at one point.

“She says she doesn’t want to spend her entire trip in dad’s restaurant and she wants to come with us,” he paused so he could listen to his father’s response. “He says her parents are trusting him to keep her safe. And she’s saying that she only came here to…” Abed’s voice faltered, but he quickly regained his composure. “...to see me.”

“You know,” Troy clapped Abed on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind having her hang out with us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why not? She seems cool.”

Abed looked back and forth between his father and cousin for a moment before speaking up.

“She can come with us.”

They both stopped and stared at him, his father’s face in a tight frown while Abra’s eyes were wide with hope.

“No, absolutely not. She is not ready to be out on her own.”

“She won’t be on her own. Troy and I will be there.”

“Oh! Well that’s reassuring.”

Abra crossed her arms.

“Back in my home, my father lets me spend time with my friends.”

Troy didn’t know why, but that seemed to strike a nerve.

“I am _not_ my brother and you are in _my_ home now!” He shook his head in defeat. “You know what? Fine. If you really want to go, then just go. I’ve been having this argument with you all day and I’m done.”

Abra squealed and jumped to her feet, immediately packing up her things.

_“Shukran Amo!”_

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you get back here before dinner,” He grumbled before turning his attention back to Abed. “And Abed, make sure she has fun -- but not too much fun. And make sure she feels included -- but don’t include her too much in your shenanigans. I am putting a lot of trust in you right now.”

“We’ll keep her safe.” Abed gave a small smile as they headed out the door.

“And keep her away from that off-brand Ryan Reynolds friend of yours!” He called back at them. “No real reason, I’m just not fond of the guy!”


	2. Root Beer Conversations

Greendale’s campus was bustling with activity. Students rushing to their classes, volunteers helping to set up for Family Day, and the occasional feral animal cutting across the walkways. Troy and Abed were able to talk amongst themselves, as Abra was too preoccupied with taking pictures with her phone to pay attention. At one point, she stopped mid-selfie and yelped sharply.

“Abed?” Her voice shook as she hid behind her cousin and pointed around him to something on the other side of the field. “What is _that_?”

Troy and Abed followed her gaze to the Greendale Human Being mascot, which was wandering aimlessly around the benches, the tight-fitting white morphsuit adding an eerie uncanniness to its movements.

“That’s our mascot,” Abed explained. “The Human Being.”

Abra didn’t seem reassured.

“What does it do?”

“Suffocate, I think. The mask and Sharpied-on face makes it hard to breathe in that costume.”

“You know, I’ve been so numb to it for so long that I haven’t thought about how terrifying our mascot is until now.” Troy sighed and shook his head. “This must be what it’s like to see the world through other people’s eyes.”

Abra peered over Abed’s shoulder as the mascot began flailing around, as if being attacked by a swarm of invisible gnats.

“Should we help?”

“I find that it’s best to keep walking and avoid making eye contact.”

When the three arrived at Abed’s dorm, Troy immediately collapsed on the couch as he did whenever he came over. Meanwhile, Abra took to combing through Abed’s extensive collection of dvds and vhs tapes, but not showing any interest beyond reading the descriptions on the back.

“I think we should make a sequel to our KickPuncher tribute film.” Abed sat down in a wicker chair across from the couch and instinctively turned on the tv. “I finished the final cut of the first one, but I think there’s a lot more we can do with the story.”

“I’m down.” 

After doing their handshake, Troy looked over at Abra.

“Do you think Abra would want to help out?”

At the sound of her name, Abra looked up from the _SpaceBalls_ dvd case she had been inspecting. “Hmm?”

“Do you want to help Troy and me make a movie?”

“I can help.” She put the dvd down. “But I don’t know how to make movies.”

“That’s why film is a collaborative medium.” Abed reassured her.

“And we’ll find something for you to do.” Troy added. “Maybe you can make costumes!”

“I don’t make costumes.” Abra punctuated her words with a dramatic swoosh of her veil. “I make _fashion_.”

Troy looked at Abed and mouthed _“There’s a difference?”_ , only to get a shrug in response.

“We’ll find something for you to do.” Abed nodded. “But I’d like to get a script done first, so it will be a while before we can begin the preproduction.”

“Hmm,” Abra hummed to herself and took a seat on the bottom level of Abed’s bunk bed. “I want to watch one of your movies.”

“She should watch our first KickPuncher tribute,” Troy pointed. “Especially if she’s going to help with the second one.”

Abed furrowed his brow.

“I don’t like rewatching my movies too many times after I finished the final edit. It just makes me want to go back and change things.” He thought for a moment then stood up. “I can let you watch it on my laptop. The .srt file with the Arabic subtitles is already on there anyway.”

Troy watched as Abed got his laptop set up for Abra, who was making herself comfortable on the lower bunk. She reclined back on top of the comforter, the laptop resting on her stomach and her head propped up with all of Abed’s pillows. Abed handed her a pair of chunky headphones, which she secured over her niqāb, before joining Troy next to him on the couch.

“Do you think she’ll understand what we’re parodying?” Troy asked, as he watched Abra watch the film.

“Homage,” Abed corrected. “Not parody.”

“Right, sorry.”

“There are some details that may be lost in translation,” he continued. “But the work should be able to stand on its own. At its core, it’s a story about good versus evil. That’s universal.”

“It’s also about a cybernetic cop who fights drug-dealing terrorists.”

“Which is what the exposition text crawl is for.”

The two of them turned their attention from Abra to the television, which was still playing cartoon reruns at low volume. Eventually, Abed spoke up again.

“Do you want to just watch tv, instead of making a movie?”

“Oh.” The request surprised Troy, but he decided not to question it. “Yeah, we can do that.”

They sat like that in silence, like they had countless times before. But Troy couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was different. Through the corner of his eye, he glanced at Abed. His friend was watching these barely-audible cartoons with the same intensity he had when combing the extended cut of Die Hard for missing details. He was obviously focused on something, just nothing that was directly in front of him.

“Abed?” Troy asked. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” Abed responded, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Troy nodded and decided not to ask further. He thought back to the conversation he heard (heard, but not understood) between Abed and Abra. He then remembered what Abra said shortly after.

_You and him don’t talk about family._

Family. That had to be the issue, right? But that was something he and Abed just didn’t talk about. Even though he was his best friend, and maybe that was the point. He wanted to have fun with Abed, not bring up a bunch of downer topics like his parents’ divorce, his terrifying grandmother, or the fact that he did think it was weird that his dad’s new girlfriend was old enough to have been in his graduating class. If the two of them started sharing their real problems with each other, what if that caused them to lose their fun “Troy and Abed” dynamic forever?

But on the other hand, Troy couldn’t stand knowing that his best friend was probably going through something difficult, and there was no way he could ever know and help out. He felt weak, hopeless.

Troy tried to push these thoughts out of his mind and focus on the tv. In the corner of his eye, he saw Abra, who was still watching their film. A sudden realization came to Troy and he gasped, sitting up in his seat.

“Abed!” Troy tapped his shoulder in a panic. “Which edit of the film did you give to Abra?”

“I only made one final edit so far. I try to space them apart.”

“So there’s nothing you thought to edit out?”

“Not out of the final cut, no.”

“Even the sex scene?”

Abed frowned,

“It was the logical emotional conclusion of the relationship. And it was tastefully shot. Why would I edit that out?”

Troy gripped Abed’s shoulders.

“How about the fact that you’re showing it to your _cousin_ , who I don’t think would care about how ‘tastefully shot’ it is?”

A look of dawning shock slowly morphed onto Abed’s face.

“Oh,” his eyes widened. “That’s not good.”

“You think?!”

“Okay,” Abed stood up and gestured with his fingers as he thought. “I don’t think she’s at that scene yet. We can just take the laptop from her and-”

Abra shrieked and snapped the laptop shut, flinging it across the room where it slid across the carpet at Abed’s feet. The sliver of her face visible through her niqāb was noticeably red. She pulled her face piece up further so it was covering her eyes, and turned away from Troy and Abed.

“Well,” Troy looked over at Abed, who was staring down at the laptop on the floor. “I think she saw it.”

It took Abed about ten minutes of consoling Abra and apologizing for not warning her about the sex scene ahead of time before she agreed to continue watching, but only if he skipped past it before handing the laptop back to her.

“In hindsight, this scene didn’t have to be as long as it was,” Abed muttered as he skipped through.

“Now you say that…” Troy sighed. “But you’re right - it is tastefully shot.”

Abed gave a small smile,

“I bought a diffusion screen for it.”

“It paid off.”

When the film was done and after the Cool Abed Films end slate faded, Abra gently closed the laptop and took the headphones off. Troy and Abed stood still as they waited for her verdict.

“It’s good” she nodded, her eyes smiling. “I liked the costumes, and I don’t watch movies with fighting, but these fights were really exciting! Did Abed really kick you in the face?”

“Oh no,” Troy shrugged in an attempt to come off as casual. “That was just movie magic. The power of physical acting.”

“But your scream of fear sounded so real.”

“That’s…” Troy faltered. “That’s because I’m a really good physical actor.”

He glanced over at Abed, who nodded in agreement.

Abra’s look let him know that she still didn't believe him.

“I enjoyed your movie. Other than the…” her eyebrows furrowed as she thought for the right word. “...intimate part. I didn’t need to see you like that. But you should be very proud.”

“Thank you.” Abed gave a small smile. “Maybe I should start making separate edits of my films for family viewings.”

“Wait,” Troy looked back at Abra. “So you were able to keep up with the plot of the film? Even with all of the references to the original KickPuncher franchise?”

“Yes?” Abra tilted her head to the side. “Isn’t that what the exposition text crawl is for?”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“This was nice. I would like to see more of your movies,” Abra handed the laptop back to Abed. “I always hear about the movies you are making, I liked being able to see one.”

Abed tucked the laptop under his arm.

“Cool. Maybe I can show you my slice of life short film series some time.”

Abra made a sound that sounded like a little squee.

“I would like that a lot.” Her eyes widened in realization. “Oh! I don’t want to forget, but my mother wanted me to bring something for you.”

Abra scurried over to her bag on the floor and pulled out a large hardcover book. The cover was a deep brown and other than some gold-embossed Arabic writing, there were no other labels or identifiable details. She motioned for Troy and Abed to join her on the floor as she opened the book, revealing pages of carefully laid-out photographs.

“I know there are pictures of you in here,” Abra said as she carefully turned each thick, laminated page. “I promise.”

Troy caught a glimpse at Abed through the corner of his eye, his expression was unreadable, but he still noticed the way his fingers tightened against the laptop in his hands.

Abra didn’t seem to notice that as she continued turning the pages, humming happily to herself as she did so. The pages mostly seemed to consist of photos of Abra’s immediate family. There was a photo of Abra as a toddler, the photo taken mid-laugh as she was bouncing on the knee of her smiling father, while her mother stood proudly behind him, her head adorned with a silken red scarf.

She pointed to a photo of herself and two other girls, laughing together with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Abra was still wearing her niqāb, but the other two girls only had their heads covered with brightly-patterned scarves.

“These are my friends from school, Sadaf and Maha,” She looked up at her cousin. “Oh, and Abed, I told them that you’re a popular American director. I hope this is okay.”

Abed shrugged,

“If they ever visit and you don’t want your lie to be exposed, I don’t mind staging a fake Hollywood premiere.”

Abra gasped,

“We can get a limo!”

“And cardboard cutouts made of us to put outside the entrance,” Troy sighed wistfully. “Man, I really want a cardboard cutout of myself right now.”

“Then if we get into a chase scene,” Abed added, “We can stand in front of our cardboard cutouts so our pursuers run past us.”

“How do you always make my awesome ideas even more awesome?”

Abra looked slightly confused as they did their handshake.

“Who would be chasing us?”

“Obviously in getting the word out for this fake movie premiere, we ended up overshadowing a real premiere that was happening at the same night,” Abed explained. “So that director sends their people to shut us down.”

“Oh.” Abra frowned. “Does Hollywood really work like that?”

“Not always as overt.”

“Hmm.” Abra looked back down at the photo album and continued flipping. When she came across a specific page, her eyes lit up. “Here they are! I found you.”

Abra pointed to a series of photos, mostly of group shots. When he focused on a photo of the family gathered around a crowded dinner table, Troy recognized Abra’s mother and father from the previous photos, but there were other extended relatives featured too. At the corner of the table was a lanky teenage boy staring down at his hands and sitting next to his stern-looking father.

“This was the last time he and Uncle visited.”

There was another photo pasted beneath that one which allowed Troy to get a better picture of teenage Abed. He was sitting on a couch, the slight blue glow on his face indicating that there was a tv on off-frame. He sat with his knees pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. Next to him sat a younger Abra without her niqāb, her wavy black hair cut bluntly along her jaw. If Troy didn’t know they were cousins, he would have mistaken them for siblings. They had the same nose shape, the same large brown eyes, and they were both watching the tv with similar looks of focused intensity. It almost looked like Abra was deliberately mirroring her older cousin.

Honestly, it was surreal seeing Abed like that. Troy was used to seeing Abed so confident and comfortable with himself. Not the type of confidence Troy felt back when he was popular in high school, but a real sense of self confidence in a way that felt natural and effortless. Looking through these photos, it shocked Troy how...lost Abed looked. This awkward teenager was such a far cry from the Abed he had met at Greendale.

Troy had a horrifying realization that teenage Abed was exactly the kind of person he and his high school friends would have made fun of.

Abed stood up and left to sit on the couch without a word, the simple action pulling Troy out of his thoughts immediately. He stared forward at Abra, who was looking back at him with wide eyes, her hands guiltily hovering over the photo album still spread open on the floor. Her gaze lowered to the photos, then carefully shut the book.

“Hey, Abed?” Troy got up so he could join his friend on the couch. “You okay, buddy?”

Abed didn’t say anything, his eyes focused on his hands which were twisting together in his lap. Then his movements stopped altogether as he sat there, frozen.

Abra was standing on the other side of the room, holding the photo album tightly against her chest and stammering quietly in a panicked mixture of Arabic and English.

“ _Ha’ek_ \-- I didn’t…” she managed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Troy spoke gently. “We just need to give him a moment.”

Abra nodded and stuffed the photo album back into her bag before joining the other two, taking a seat in the wicker chair next to the couch.

“You wanna watch something?” Troy picked up the remote from the arm rest and began flipping through channels.

“Yes,” Abra responded, although she was still staring worriedly at her cousin.

When she didn’t specify further, Troy decided to keep scrolling through channels in the hopes of finding something remotely interesting. He eventually landed on some kind of baking show, since he figured that would be mellow and low-stakes enough to have on in the background while Abed got his bearings.

“I don’t like it when they do that,” Abra commented as one of the bakers draped a sheet of fondant over the chocolate cake she was preparing.

“I never had it, but it looks super cool.” Troy shrugged.

“My other cousin had it at her wedding,” she shuddered. “It tastes like clay.”

“Still kind of want to press my face into it.”

Abra looked at him oddly, then laughed.

“You’re really strange, Troy.” she stopped. “I mean, funny-strange, not bad-strange.”

“You’re good,” Troy grinned at her. “I think you’re funny-strange too.”

Abra relaxed in her seat and looked back at the tv, then her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Is she putting the ice cream into her soda?”

“Yeah, it’s a root beer float. They’re really good, have you ever had one?”

Abra shook her head.

“No, I don’t like root beer.”

“Okay, is there anything you _do_ like?”

“I like a lot of things!” Abra sounded offended. “Just not root beer! It tastes like medicine.”

“You need to hook me up with whatever kind of medicine you’re using.”

Abra scoffed and slumped further in her seat, nearly sliding off the chair in the process.

“Now I want ice cream.”

“Yeah, I think our snack supply could use a refill,” Troy looked back at Abed. “What do you think? You want to pick some stuff up?”

Abed blinked slowly, his eyes gradually regaining focus.

“Are we out of pretzels?”

“We could always use more.”

Abed considered it for a moment, then shrugged.

“Okay, sounds good. We should get popcorn too, if we’re going to host a movie night.”

Troy tried to hide his relief that Abed was seemingly back to his usual self.

“You got it, man,” Troy patted him on the back and stood up. “Wanna head out now? We should go before all the vending machines are picked clean.”

“No, I think I want to stay here for a while.” he gave him a small smile. “But you can go if you want.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” he looked back at Abra, who was fidgeting in her seat. “Is it cool if I bring Abra? She said she wanted to get ice cream.”

Abed nodded,

“Annie told me the new place next to the costume shop is really good.”

“The cowboy one?”

“Yeah, she recommends the raspberry,” Abed paused. “Oh and when you’re getting snacks, could you pick up some more chocolate-covered raisins?”

“I got you,” Troy headed to the door. “You ready, Abra?”

Abra hopped off the chair, grabbing her bag from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder.

“ _Ila al-liqaa_!” She waved as she joined Troy at the door.

“ _Ila_ …” Troy gave up and rubbed the back of his neck. “See you later.”

When there was enough distance between them and the door to Abed’s dorm, Abra turned to Troy,

“Will Abed be okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiled at her. “He just needs his space right now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Hey, It’s not your fault,” Troy hesitated. “But would you like to talk about it?”

Abra was silent for a moment before she spoke up again.

“No, not yet.” She looked lost in thought, then shook her head. “And there’s no time for that. We have an important job!”

“Of course, the snacks!”

“And ice cream. You promised.”

“Okay I didn’t really _promise_ ,” Troy couldn’t help but laugh at her heartbroken expression. “But I’ll get you your ice cream.”

“I’m not believing you unless you promise.”

“I promise, okay?”

It turned out that most of the vending machines were already picked clean, so Troy decided to take Abra to the convenience store across from campus. After grabbing the essential items Abed requested, he let Abra go loose and pick out whatever weird items she wanted.

“Are you really getting that?” Troy asked when he saw her pluck a can of Spam from the shelf.

“No, I’m sending a picture to Maha and Sadaf,” she pulled her phone out of her bag and snapped a picture of herself holding the can up to her face. “I promised them I’d send pictures of my trip in America.”

“I see you’re hitting all of the highlights.”

Abra only ended up buying a bag of chocolate chip cookies and some sour candies, but between the two of them they still had enough snacks to fill two plastic bags. Troy didn’t mind carrying them out of the store while Abra focused on her phone.

“Abed is asking what movie you want to watch,” she looked back down at the screen. “He says you have a list?”

“Oh,” Troy looped the two bags around his left arm so he could have one free hand. “Abed keeps a list of all of the movies in his collection. We want to watch all of them at least once together.”

“What is _Boogie Nights_?”

The bags almost slid off Troy’s arm.

“What?”

“He sent me a photo of the list,” she held her phone up to Troy’s face. “See? Near the top.”

“Oh,” Troy laughed nervously. “I don’t think you want to see that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just…” he stumbled as he tried to piece his words together as carefully as possible. “It doesn’t seem like it would be your thing.”

“My thing…” Abra repeated, staring back down at her phone. “What movie do you think would be ‘my thing’?”

“Well, what kind of movies do you like? We can start from there.”

Abra took a moment to think.

“I don’t like to see sex or blood, I don’t like to see people get hurt.” she stated. “I like funny movies and movies with happy endings. Oh! And I like looking at nice clothes in movies.”

“So are there any titles from Abed’s list that sound interesting to you? I can let you know if they match your interests.”

Abra looked back down at her phone, squinting as she took a closer look at the photo Abed sent her.

“ _A Clockwork Orange_?”

“Uh, probably not.”

“What is it about?”

“You know all that stuff you said you didn’t like? It’s basically about that. It would be like...the root beer of movies for you.”

“The root beer of movies,” Abra laughed. “I like that.”

She continued scrolling through the image.

“ _Silence of the Lambs_?”

“Don’t think so.”

“ _Trainspotting_?”

“Oh no.”

“ _Requiem for a Dream_?”

“Definitely a root beer movie.”

“ _Singing in the Rain_?”

“That’s…” Troy paused. “That might be something you’d actually like.”

Abra sighed in relief,

“I’ll tell Abed.”

After Abra sent the text, Troy made good on his promise to get her some ice cream. The stand was a bit further from campus, but only by a couple blocks. When they arrived there was another horrifying mascot there to greet them, this one being a man-sized ice cream cone in a pink cowboy hat. Fortunately, Abra didn’t seem as disturbed as she was when she encountered the Human Being back in Greendale.

“Get whatever you like,” he told her when they reached the front of the line. “Well, as long as it’s not crazy expensive.”

“I can pay,” Abra said defensively, pulling a wallet out of her bag and slapping a $50 bill on the counter.

“Whoa, is that a 50?!”

Abra looked confused,

“It’s what the exchange booth gave me.”

“I didn’t even know people still use 50s,” Troy shook his head and slid the bill back to Abra. “You can keep your money. This is my treat.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, you’re Abed’s cousin. I’m not making you pay.”

Abra sheepishly folded the bill back into her wallet.

“Thank you.”

Abra ordered a chocolate cone and while Troy hadn’t planned on getting any ice cream for himself, the mint chocolate chip sounded too good to pass up. After they received their orders, with Abra bundling a bunch of napkins around hers so it wouldn’t drip onto her gloves, they sat down on one of the benches overlooking the nearby park.

“Do you want me to look away?” Troy asked. “So you can eat that without it getting on your clothes.”

Abra shook her head,

“That’s nice of you, but I’m very good at eating with the niqāb.”

As if to prove a point, she used one hand to push her face cover out just far enough so she could hold the ice cream cone underneath it with the other.

“Looks like you have this taken care of.” Troy turned his attention to his own cone, which had already dripped onto his own clothes.

When Abra was done, she made a show out of making Troy see that none of the ice cream got on her niqāb.

“Wow, that’s seriously impressive.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Abra basked in the praise. “Yes, I’m very talented.”

“But I’m curious, does it ever get hot in that?”

Abra furrowed her brow and waved one of her loose sleeves around.

“No? The fabric is not very thick and I’m used to it.” She gestured to Troy’s clothes. “You’re wearing long sleeves too.”

“That’s fair.”

They threw their trash away in a nearby waste bin and remained on the bench. Troy couldn’t help but notice a change in Abra’s mannerisms. Her hands were folded tightly in her lap and he could hear her feet knocking together as she fidgeted in her seat. There had been a few times when he noticed Abed exhibiting the same behavior whenever he got nervous or anxious and he wondered if it had the same meaning when coming from Abra.

“Hey,” he said carefully. “Are you okay?”

Abra bowed her head,

“I’m just thinking about something - something that hurts to think about,” she slumped her shoulders. “But I don’t want to be a gossip.”

“If something’s bothering you, that’s not gossip,” he reassured her. “You’re good.”

“I see, that’s good,” Abra inhaled. “Because my friend, Sadaf, she has a sister who always gossips. You can’t tell her anything and that’s why no one ever wants to spend any time with her.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds bad.” Troy paused. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

Abra shook her head, but didn’t respond further. Her fidgeting became more frantic.

“Is this about the conversation you and Abed had back at the restaurant?”

Abra hesitated, then nodded, her eyes squeezing shut.

“It’s okay. You know that, right? I can tell you care about Abed and you’re worrying about him, so-”

“I’m not worrying about Abed.” Abra interjected.

“Oh,” Troy was left more confused. “That’s not what this is about?”

“I know Abed has lots of things going on, but I don’t worry about him. He’s...Abed, I know he will be fine.” Abra looked back down at her hands. “I’m more worried about my uncle.”

“Mr. Nadir?” Not the explanation he saw coming. “Why are you worried about him?”

As Abra squirmed in her seat, she tried multiple times to begin her explanation, but she could never get past the first few words. At long last, she sighed and shook her head.

“Do you mind if I write it first? It helps me think.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Abra took a deep breath, then pulled her sketchbook and a pen out of her bag. She flipped to a clean page and began writing, continuously switching back and forth between English and Arabic.

“Okay,” she set the sketchbook down on her lap, the page now covered with notes, timelines, and even a few charts. “To begin, do you know that Abed’s mother and father are not...together?”

“Yeah. He’s mentioned that.”

Abra nodded, seeming to be relieved that she was not crossing a boundary.

“That happened when I was a baby, but it didn’t become…” she stopped to check her notes. “...recognized until much later. The same year Abed and Uncle last visited us.”

“So that’s…” The realization slowly dawned on him. “Oh.”

“Yes,” Abra’s gloved hands tightened around her sketchbook. “When they visited, I didn’t know anything was wrong. I was just excited to see them. But after talking to Abed and thinking more about that day…”

Her voice hitched and she shook her head, shielding her face from Troy and focusing on her notes.

“I thought I had forgotten, but when I think hard about it, I can remember my uncle arguing with my father a lot.” Her voice became monotone and rushed, as if she was just reading detached words from a script. “He thought we were going to judge him, think lesser of him. But we never did. When my parents tried to help, he would get mad. Then they stopped talking.”

“He didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him…” Troy said under his breath, all too aware of how familiar this situation was to him.

Abra nodded,

“He wouldn’t let Abed do anything. He was always trying to control everything he did and everything he said. He was only allowed to talk about school.” The switch in Abra’s tone told him that she was starting to go off-script. “It was weird.”

“He was using him as a way to prove something to them.”

Abra tilted her head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

Troy took a deep breath.

“My parents are divorced too. When my mom and I visited her family recently, she wanted me to act like ‘the perfect kid’. Because if I was doing okay, that meant _she_ was also doing okay. I had to go the entire weekend pretending I still had that scholarship,” He sagged his shoulders. “It can put a lot of pressure on you.”

Abra nodded,

“Uncle’s been doing the same thing to me ever since I arrived. It makes me mad because my parents always let me do things. But he doesn’t. For example, he wouldn’t let me...” she trailed off and looked up at Troy. “What’s the name of that thing with all the lights in the dark room?”

Troy gave her an odd look.

“Are you talking about a rave?”

“I don’t think so. It’s like a game where you shoot the lights at people?” She made a little finger gun motion to emphasize her point.

“Oh, you mean laser tag?”

“Yes!” Her eyes lit up. “Laser tag!”

“In Mr. Nadir’s defense, I think having your entire face and body covered in black fabric would give you an unfair advantage.”

“I know I would have an advantage, that’s why I wanted to play. But he wouldn’t let me. Said it’s ‘too dangerous’. It’s been nothing but that.” She lowered her voice in an attempt to mimic her uncle. “‘Abra, you can’t do that, you might get hurt.’, ‘No, _habibti_ , you must stay in the restaurant.’ ‘Abra, your mother and father will be very upset if you don’t behave’. No! My mother and father will be more upset if I flew for ten hours, only to make napkin dolls in my uncle’s stupid restaurant the entire time!”

Abra froze and self-consciously looked back and forth between her sketchbook and Troy.

“I’m sorry.” She adjusted the fabric around her eyes as she composed herself. “These thoughts have been in my head all day. I love my uncle and I know why he does this, but he can frustrate me.”

“You’re good, don’t worry.” Troy smiled at her. 

“Tomorrow at Family Day, could you not tell anyone that I can speak English? My uncle likes translating for me,” she shrugged. “I think it makes him feel useful? And like he can still look after someone, since Abed is grown now.”

“Sure, no problem.” He nodded. “Although, are you sure you’ll be able to stay quiet for that long?”

Abra looked offended,

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just teasing you,” Troy laughed. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She scoffed, but her eyes made it clear that she was smiling,

“Thank you.”

Troy stared down at the ground, one thought burning in his mind.

“Have you tried talking to Abed about this?”

“Yes, he knows my plan. It was his idea.”

“No, I mean about…” Troy waved his hand around. “All of this. The family stuff.”

“Oh.” She held her sketchbook close to her chest. “No. I don’t think he likes to talk about it. And I never get to see Abed. I didn’t want to ruin my visit by talking about...this.”

Troy nodded,

“That’s why me and Abed don’t talk about family a lot.”

Abra fell silent, the only sound coming from her feet shuffling back and forth against the gravel below them.

“You’re Abed’s friend.” She spoke at last. “What do you think I should do?”

“Oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I’m not always the best at this sort of thing.”

“But you’ve been really easy to talk to. I can see why Abed really likes you.”

The comment caused Troy’s chest to feel warm and he couldn’t help but smile.

“In that case, maybe you should try talking to him,” Troy shrugged. “It’s been years since you’ve last seen him, right? Maybe the two of you should sit down by yourselves and talk this stuff through.”

Abra looked up at him,

“Will that work?”

“I think so. I’ll hang back so you two can talk without me getting in the way.”

Abra laughed.

“You’re not in the way, Troy. I like having you around.”

“Most people do, but there will be plenty of time for that during the movie.” He grinned. “And it sounds like the last time you saw each other was kind of awkward. This can help you move past that.”

Abra thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll talk to him.”

“Awesome,” Troy hopped off the bench, grabbing the bags of snacks. “You want to head back now?”

“Yes, let’s go,” Abra stood up and looped her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

When they returned to campus, Troy gave Abra his phone number so she could call him after she was done talking to Abed. He then handed her the bags of snacks and wished her luck before leaving to kill time on campus. As he wandered along the sidewalk, he couldn’t help but think back to his previous conversation with Abra. Did he actually give her good advice? He hoped so, or else he had just locked Abed in an emotional prison. God he hoped his advice didn’t backfire.

“Troy!”

He turned around to see Annie running towards him, her hands clutching the straps of her backpack to keep it steady.

“Annie, hey! What’s up?”

“Nothing much, just heading to class,” she smiled. “How about you?”

“Oh, Abed and I are hanging out with his cousin, Abra. She’s visiting for Family Day.”

“Really? I didn’t know Abed had a cousin.”

“Yeah, she’s really cool and surprisingly easy to talk to,” Troy winced. “Ah, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that she speaks English. My bad.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Annie sighed wistfully. “I wish I had family coming tomorrow. But after I went to rehab, most of them thought it was easier to pretend that I didn’t exist. So it looks like I’ll be on my own!”

Annie’s cheerful tone and the little giggle she made scrambled up the reaction part of Troy’s brain.

“Oh…” he rocked back and forth on his heels, not sure how to respond. “That sucks.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll be way too busy helping to set up for the festival to spend time with my family. And of course I volunteered to help set up because I don’t have a family…” her voice trailed off, but then she shrugged and perked back up. “So I guess it’s a win-win!”

“Hey if you want, Abed, Abra, and I are going to watch a movie in the dorm.” He offered, as if out of instinct. “You wanna join?”

“Oh? What movie?”

Troy hesitated,

“... _Singing in the Rain_ ,” he held his hand up. “I know what you’re going to say, but it was Abra’s choice and--”

“I love _Singing in the Rain_!” Annie clasped her hands over her heart. “I have to run to class now, but I would love to stop by later.”

“Alright,” Troy nodded. “So, I’ll maybe see you then?”

Annie smiled, “Maybe see you then.” Then darted off.

Troy continued wandering around campus until his phone buzzed with a series of text messages.

_abed and i talked. he’s good._

_he says hi by the way._

_now he’s telling me about the movie. did you know that old movies used to be silent? that sounds horrible!_

_did people really watch movies with no sound?_

_this is abra._

Troy smiled, sliding his phone back into his pocket, and began making his way back to his friend’s dorm.


End file.
